A/N: I wrote this several years ago for the person who was my best friend at the time. It was meant to be part of a larger story that she was writing however that story was never finished. This is the last item in my "incomplete Code Lyoko" folder that is in any way presentable.
Seeing as I've lost all interest in this show, this is most likely the last thing I'll ever post to the Code Lyoko section.
Aelita looked wearily around her room after closing and locking her door for the night. Her hand brushed against the wall and caught the light switch, plunging her small world into near total darkness. Blindly, she walked towards the closet with her memory to guide her while her eyes adjusted, slowly resolving the room into grey detail by the time she had reached the storage space. Her hand easily found the handle and she tugged, pulling the door open so that she could retrieve her shower kit.
The container was a hard, opaque red plastic with a water and air-tight lid that snapped securely into place and looked more like a tool box than the feminine bags that most other girls used to carry their shower gear. Forcing away the memories of ridicule that her re-purposed box had brought her she sat down on her bed and snapped open the latches. A slight smell greeted her as she pulled out the tray that sat on the top to reveal a bottle of alcohol, gauze, tape, paper towels and a slightly dull razor blade. Gently setting her shower equipment aside, she reached in and extracted the supplies hidden by the top tray, already fearing and craving the coming release.
Her hands trembled as she rolled up her sleeves and then picked up the blade, relishing the feel of the cold metal in her hands for a moment before bringing the blade to her arm. The cutting edge felt reassuring as she placed it against her skin and her eyes closed as she pressed down and felt the sharp sensation of a puncture wound that signaled the beginning. Slowly she dragged the blade downwards, feeling the terrible sting of the blade as it bit into and cut her flesh.
Where others would have cried out in pain she merely hissed through clenched teeth and opened her eyes, fixing them on the arm now suspended over the empty container. Pain flooded up her arm as the warm sensation of wet blood trickled down it. The emotional scars of being left out and made fun of over her father's financial troubles were washed away. Hot tears burned in her eyes, but tears of agony were better than the tears of loss she had to suppress every time someone brought up her lack of a mother.
Red blood dripped soundlessly off of her arm and into the container while she pulled the razor away and moved it to a new position higher up on her arm. The familiar wince as the blade again penetrated her skin followed by the soothing agony of another cut being formed. More blood spilled down her arm, coating it in the misery that drained out of her veins in a pair of hot rivers. Rivers that carried her fears of being taken away from this place only to end up somewhere worse, where she would not even have the fleeting comfort of the trio that helped to defend her. Fear banished away by the sweeping pain of the slightly dull blade tearing down her arm.
Trembling again as she repositioned the blade for a third assault on her body, she wondered what it would be like to cut a major artery. Blood would spurt out so rapidly that she would be gone in minutes. leaving this world for one where she would know nothing, where her pain would not be the price of her blissful nothingness. But not yet, she pressed the blade into her arm but didn't cut herself, she couldn't do that until she was sure her three friends would protect Jeremy, and that he would help them as best he could.
The feeling she experienced at the thought of the blond boy was... Pleasant? She shook her head violently and then repositioned the knife to a safer spot on her arm. Any more thought of him was gone, replaced by the sound of another hiss as she again dragged the razor through her own skin. More blood and another precious few moments of agony induced emptiness followed by the beginning stages of lightheadedness brought on by what she was doing.
Sighing deeply, she reached for the isopropyl alcohol and, using only her uninjured limb, wetted one paper towel and applied it to her arm. Tendrils of darkness snaked into the absorbent material as the alcohol stung her wound and gave her the last dose of relief she'd get on this night. Knowing that, she savored the fire that cleaning her new cuts created in her arm for as long as she could stand it then proceeded to bandage her cuts with the gauze. Next, she poured a bit of the alcohol over the razor blade to clean and sterilize it then set it aside so that she could grab the remainder of her towels and clean up her tub. Once that was done she replaced everything, put the shower stuff in and sealed the kit tight, relegating the trash into its own plastic bag to be disposed of discreetly, tomorrow.
For now, she burrowed into the covers of her bed, feeling better and yet worse at the same time. Her worst emotions were somewhat dulled by the lingering pain and the cool pillow against her cheek absorbed the last, lingering, tears that spilled as she recalled her physical torment. Somewhere deep in her mind she wondered how long she could really go on like this. She wondered how she had coped before finding the release of physical pain yet wished for those days as well. Wished she didn't have to...